A Rose By Any Other Name
by Paige395
Summary: Chrysanthemum Rose Malfoy had one cardinal rule. Well really it wasn't a rule, it was more of a mantra. History remembers reformers, not conformers. In this she took it upon herself to try to change the bigoted world she lived in as much as she could. Then she started Hogwarts and her mantra changed from a phrase to a word. Fight.


**A/N - Hello Fanfiction. So this is my first story, ever, and I really hope you like it : ).**

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**Prologue:**

It is a Truth Universal Acknowledged,

that

**History Remembers Reformers not Conformers**

**_June 5, 1991_**

The Malfoy's where what Muggles could coin as a nuclear family. Complete with a patriarch Lucius Archibald, a Matriarch Narcissa Lyra, the son and or heir Draco Alphard, and the daughter (better known as the agitator) Chrysanthemum Rose.

Draco Malfoy was the good child, a natural born pleaser. (or at least that was the way he acted toward his parents.)

Chrysanthemum Rose Malfoy was the troubled and argumentative child. Who was not one for acting with any sense of social normalcy. In fact she took great joy in being an individual. As a young child she strived for individualism. A word she took to mean one thing and one thing only, complete and utter disregard for all ideals her parents attempted to instill in her. Not only did she hold these ideals in disregard, she also took a stance on the other side of every issue.

"Purity of blood is important," her parents would say.

"Equality no matter blood or race," Chrysanthemum would respond.

"Reminding others of your superiority is how to gain power and standing though their respect" her parents would say.

Chrysanthemum would respond again "Treating others with respect, is the way to gain friendships and in turn respect."

As one may guess this argumentative nature was a source of constant friction in the otherwise perfect and conform driven Malfoy family way of doing things.

Her mother would constantly be ask "why can you not learn to behave like the other children?"

In response Chrysanthemum only gave this, "because I want to be remembered. History only remembers reformers not conformers." Then she would walk into her room in the large tower on the west side of the manor where she spent most of her days.

She was kept here to insure her ideology would not 'poison' the mind of her Draco. Chrysanthemum did not mind the arrangement… much. Silence was not very befitting to the irrevocably loud child. Often she just read aloud until she was allowed out again Sometimes, though instead of staying in her room she would ask one of the house elves to help her sneak into the kitchen so she could 'help' make food. A pointless task seeing as she never did all that much.

Her tasks usually consisted of mixing pastry batter or helping roll it out on the dough those were always her favorite days. However, she also quite enjoyed the solitude that her room provided. It gave her time to think of new ideas.

Her best idea to date was the actions that took place on her seventh birthday. Where she managed to recreate her mother's mirror charm and then place it on every reflective surface in the house having it insult all of the parties guests. The result was, as one may guess, priceless.

But like all magical children, Chrysanthemum's story did not begin when she was seven. No, her story began on her eleventh birthday when a red enveloped letter was placed on her bedside table by an eagle owl. Already knowing it's contents Chrysanthemum broke the seal of the letter yet kept the actual parchment intact, she had plans after all.

With the help of her favorite house elf, Dobby, she was able to transfer some muggle money from her 'trust vault' at Gringotts. Then she planned to take her very first trip in the muggle world. Even if it was only for an hour.

Chrysanthemum did not care much, an hour seemed a long time to the doe eyed child. Her trip into the muggle world was something special. She had been enthralled by the fact people could live without magic since she first heard the term spewed hatefully from her father's mouth when she was little more than a babe. How did these muggle creatures cook if they did not use magic, how did they clean, how did they heat their homes, did they have homes? When she was seven she thought these would be good questions to ask her tutor. The man, Mr. Rowle, had explained that Muggles where simple beings and they lived savagely and where simple minded even lower than Werewolves the man had said.

Almost immediately Chrysanthemum found something wrong with that after all why would anyone, namely someone as powerful as Duke Moldywarts that Father and his friends always discussed, want to kill off of a race that posed no imminent and or known future threat? It did not make any sense. That idea pushed her to find more information about Muggles. She spent as much time as she was allowed at Zabini Manner. Auntie Amari was not like the other pure blooded women Chrysanthemum knew; she was intelligent and did not have a husband. Most others seemed quite boring in comparison. After all who wanted to talk about tea frillies every single day. More than that Auntie Amari had a library filled with books about every subject one could think of. She even had an, admittedly small, section on classic muggle children's literature that an unnamed childhood friend of hers compiled as a child.

The books were outdated and well worn but Chrysanthemum read them again and again practically memorizing the text. Any culture with people who wrote like L. Frank Baum, J. M. Barrie, and Frances Hodgson Burnett could not be savage. Auntie Amari kept her friends other books, more 'sophisticated' books in her muggle section as well. Chrysanthemum did not completely understand them so when she had the time the woman would sit with Chrysanthemum, Draco, and her own son Blaise teaching them the old stories. The one they read most often was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen who was, by Auntie Amari's definition, an iconic muggle writer. The boys never seemed all that interested in the story complaining about its lack of gore as young boys often do. Chrysanthemum hung on every word.

To Chrysanthemum the protagonist Elizabeth Bennet seemed a lot like a trouble making pureblood daughter. For that reason Chrysanthemum admired her. After all how could one not with an opening line like, '_It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a great fortune must be in want of a wife.' _

Chrysanthemum found that her first step outside of the boundaries of the Magical World was not as glamorous as she dreamed it would be. In fact one of the first things she did was step in gum. She yelped slightly and attempted to scrape the food off her shoe to no avail making some boys who seemed about her age laugh at her antics. She huffed and stuck her nose up like her parents always taught her. Picking up her leg she moved to take a step. The sound of the sticky gum smacking against the sidewalk however was not very appealing. The step ended up twisting her around so she caught sight of exactly what she was looking for, a book shop. She wasted no time entering.

The store had that undeniable smell of books. The one that you found in libraries or other places that had a lot of books. The walls where painted a not-quite white yet not quite cream color and had large stationary pictures tacked on them, the shelves were not huge, like the ones in Zabini and Malfoy Manner, but one did have to use a ladder to reach the top. The associate was a teenaged looking boy who was wearing a quite distracting shirt, bright colors splashed together in multiple different shapes. This boy stood on one such ladder hanging off in an odd position reaching for a book. Chrysanthemum was quite an amusing sight and was sure he was going to fall. There was a rustling from the back and in fear of getting caught Chrysanthemum slipped to look at the nearest shelf. She could not recognize any author on the shelf and the titles where a bit outrageous in her mind. Her thin fingers fluttered over pristine book sleeves.

"Hello, may I help you?" Chrysanthemum stopped at the question, in all her dreams of entering the muggle world actually talking to a muggle never crossed her mind. She bit her lip. This was not the boy with a brightly colored shirt. This was an older man whose hair was graying. He wore an old pair of brown slacks and a button up white dress shirt that was old but without stains. An open vest and loosely tied tie finished the outfit. His face had a scar that lined his top brow and others similar that lined his warm expression Chrysanthemum was unable to answer.

"Is there anything specific you are searching for?" He asked but Chrysanthemum still could not find the words she needed to speak. After all how did she address him? She doubted he would enjoy being called Muggle.

"Don't talk much do you, well is this book for you or someone else?"

I mean, it is for my brother" She whispered.

"How old is your brother?" The associate asked.

"We are twins," Chrysanthemum offered.

"Ahh well all things considered, I don't think he would like a romance novel do you."

"No sir," Chrysanthemum blushed.

"Good, we have some children's books back here. Let me show you?" He said leading her to the back. A few minutes later the door dinged signaling another customer and the man told Chrysanthemum he would be right back. The children's section was filled with many titles, and in Chrysanthemum's opinion most of them were odd. Odd titles that did not seem to be interesting at all, until she came across one that read 'Number the Stars'. She pulled the book from its place and slowly to put it in her lap reading the back. Her brow furrowed at some of the terms. The man turned the corner and the girl looked up.

"What is a Nazi and Jew?" She asked the man gaped at her for a second before he began to explain the terms. An oppressor because of race and the raced that was oppressed, in her mind Chrysanthemum thought that sounded a lot like what her Father believed in. Purebloods being inherently better than all others because of blood and the hailed was not Hitler rather Lord Moldy-Shorts, who if you asked Chrysanthemum was only marginally better. After all the concentration camps that the associate talked about seemed a lot worse than raids her father recounted with pride.

As the hour came up she hurried to buy three copies of the book, one for Blaise, Draco, and Herself before running to the nearest deserted area and calling for Dobby. There was a slight pop before a small creature appeared in front of Chrysanthemum; it had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Wearing an old pillow case Chrysanthemum's parents considered to be his uniform. This was Dobby, and he looked slightly less than pleased with her.

"The little misses be late," The little elf chastised Chrysanthemum hid her embarrassment with a slight blush.

"Sorry Dobby," She whispered.

"Little misses be really sorry if master be finding out that misses be breaking the rules." Dobby said with a huff crossing his thin arms over the shabby uniform and glaring up at the girl.

"Well he's not going to now is he Dobby," Chrysanthemum asked. Dobby was a good elf but he was bounded to her parents before herself. He could very well run off and snitch if he wanted to.

"Dobby is no telling little Miss, Dobby is being a good elf, but Master be having other ways little Miss." The elf explained its arms dropping.

"Carpe Diem, Dobs," She said with a smile patting the small elf on the head.

"That saying of yours is gonna get you in more trouble than little Miss is ready for. Misses is looking for Little Miss we best be goin' now." He said as he took her hand and popped her back to her room.

"Chrysanthemum Rose, you open this door right now," Came the call from the hallway. Her mother was quickly becoming impatient. Hiding the books and small purse with the remaining muggle money under her mattress she stripped off the plain brown dress she had worn for the outing and tucked it under the mattress as well before running to the bathroom.

Dobby was waiting with a bucket of water. Laying her hair in the sink Dobby poured the cool water down her hair to make it look as if she had just showered. Chrysanthemum threw a robe over her dressing gown and nodded to Dobby to unlock the door.

"Sorry mother, I was washing up for the party." She said opening the door on the other side she was met with a cross look from one Narcissa Malfoy nee Black.

"Did I not inform you yesterday I would be coming at this time?" The woman asked with a haughty tone.

"You did," A pale eyebrow was raised. "I mean, Yes Mother." Chrysanthemum's head nodded.

"Was there any miscommunication?" She asked.

"No Mother," was the verbalized tone as her head shook.

"Then you blatantly ignored me and decided that my schedule should become tailored to your whim." The woman said her eyes now barely slits as she glared at the girl.

"Yes Mother," Chrysanthemum.

"Your Father will be hearing of this." She said before yanking the girls golden colored hair and pulling her close.

"What is this?" She said.

"Hair Mother, you have some as well." Chrysanthemum said her mouth responding before her head calibrated a proper response. She received a smack upside the head for the trouble before she was pulled to her vanity by her Mother's grip.

"A crease, do you see this, you had your hair put up like a _muggle_ did you not." Narcissa Malfoy was not happy. Chrysanthemum having put her hair up 'like a muggle' meant wearing a ponytail. A ponytail was a hairstyle that was frowned upon in the 'upper classes' unless of course it was low and you were working with potions. Of if you were Lucius Malfoy. Most rules Chrysanthemum was given followed that pattern. Werewolves are creatures who you should never speak to, unless you where Lucius Malfoy. All Politicians where swine, unless said politician was Lucius Malfoy. There were many more all with the clause that if you happened to be Lucius Malfoy these rules did not apply to you.

Chrysanthemum was able to dress herself, in fact at practically eleven she was quite efficient in the process. Neither Parent trusted her to do so however, they thought she might do something insulting considering her lack of pride in her heritage. Merlin only knows what she would choose to wear. To some point they were right, if given the choice Chrysanthemum would never choose the dress her mother forced her in.

It was a muted dark green ballgown that was covered in a pale green lace that covered from her neck to the tips of her fingers and fluttered around the bottom seam of her full skirt. The lace was itchy and uncomfortable but it was nothing compared the corset she was made to wear under it. Her hair was tugged and pulled into perfect curls that bounced just above her shoulders in an updo and her shoes pinched her toes to a point. After finishing her Mother left without a word leaving the eleven year old in silence until she made her appearance at the ball.

As usual at exactly eight fifteen Chrysanthemum stood and moved toward the door. On the main landing that led to the ball room standing against the wall to father's study stood Chrysanthemum's escort one Blaise Ezio Zabini. His dark lips parted showing his practically perfect teeth, which were blindingly white by comparison.

He wore a plain pair of black robes complete with an open button and loose black skinny tie. This was his 'trademark' his own personal little stab to the other boys who had their collars pressed and ties pristine.

"Buon compleanno, Bella fiore." (Happy birthday, beautiful flower,) He whispered against her hand as he pressed his lips to it. Chrysanthemum tried to hide her blush at the common nickname.

"Grazie,"

"Chrysie," came the voice of Draco as he rounded the corner to give his sister a hug. Draco was dressed in a black suit with a green waist coat and tie, pristinely tied of course. Behind him stood Pansy Elizabeth Parkinson, Pansy Elizabeth was a pig faced girl who did not like Chrysanthemum all that much. Her disdain coming from one of Chrysanthemums more creative pranks when they were children. Pansy disdain could be seen by the snarl that was currently pulled at her lips. The black dress and black robes she wore lay oddly on her slim frame.

"Happy Birthday Draco,"

"Happy Birthday Chrysie," He said pulling her tight. "Tell me you are going to behave." He whispered.

"Now where is the fun in that?" She asked. When the twins stood next to each other it was quite easy to see their physical differences. The biggest one being their coloring, While Draco was pale with gray eyes and white blonde hair Chrysanthemum was slightly darker in skin tone with reddish blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Other than that they were truthfully quite similar in facial structure and body type, tall and slim. Even if it looked different due to their opposite genders.

"I am glad you could attend Pansy Elizabeth," Chrysanthemum said turning to the girl who huffed before forcing herself in to an ungraceful bow. The ungracefulness was a disrespecting gesture pointed at Chrysanthemum. Pansy was, as all pure blooded girls are, trained to be the epitome of grace.

"Happy Birthday Chrysanthemum Rose," She said malice clear in her tone.

"Thank you," Chrysanthemum said with a cocky grin. Draco twisted taking Pansy's arm before they could get into it. Soon Chrysanthemum and Blaise were announced. Being both female and second born Chrysanthemum was always announced before her brother who was heir to the Malfoy and lesser Black names, as such slotted to become the richest wizard of the century when he came of age. With Blaise's hand wrapped around her arm she took the stairs floating down as she had been taught. Once at the bottom of the stairwell she moved so her father could place a kiss on her forehead.

"We will discuss your earlier behavior once everyone leaves. For now, behave or else." He growled into the crown of her head. She nodded silently before she retook Blaise's arm.

"Same old," He asked.

"Same old," She confirmed.

"And yet you never learn."

"History remembers reformers, not conformers."

"Yet conformers seem to have a better go at it."

"Being _good_ is easy Blaise, what is difficult is being _just_." Blaise did not offer any words after that as he spun her out and bowed to her. Slowly she returned his bow with a curtsy of her own and her left hand fluttered out to grasp his right as her right lifted the skirt of her dress. His left hand secured itself around her waist as he pulled her even closer to him. Draco and Pansy struck a similar pose on the other side of the ballroom and the music began. Purebloods learned to dance almost as soon as they began to walk so the movements by this point were as easy as breathing. Once the music stopped the girls were turned out as the group who had watched them now clapped in the unenthusiastic manner most would call politeness.

The rest ball went off without a hitch. Chrysanthemum behaved herself, mostly, and the few crass statements she did make were not heard by those they spoke of. Considering how much trouble the small girl was able to cause she was almost angelic like at the party tonight.

"Chrysanthemum Rose Malfoy, your behavior earlier tonight, as always, was deplorable." He began his usual rant. How she was a disgrace to the Malfoy Family, to Pureblood Society, and to the Wizarding Race. How she was throwing away her heritage for romantic ideas of mudbloods, a word he spat from his tongue.

"Muggle's," Chrysanthemum said her dark blue eyes connecting with her father's steel grey.

"What did you say?" He said his tone low and dangerous. No one dared to question Lucius Malfoy when his voice dropped to this tone. It was ill advised if said person wanted to survive for any long amount of time after their given conversation. Chrysanthemum shifted her feet slightly and stared up before taking a deep breath and responding.

"Muggles Father, I care more to learn about Muggles than muggleborns. After all Muggle-borns are Witches and Wizards as well, they live the same way as us for the most part very boring don't you think? Muggles however. Why Muggles are exceedingly interesting, why they have no magic at all and yet they still find ways to survive." Lucius's pale face became murderous as he growled deep in his throat. Not heeding the warning Chrysanthemum pressed on. "The crass term you used is only viable for muggle-borns, you know Witches and Wizards with muggle lineage. Surely someone as educated and important as you would know that Father."

The curse that followed flew was so quickly the small girl had little time to respond before she was thrown back against her tea table the force breaking the wood in two, another curse followed quickly slashing her upper right shoulder down her back she screamed in agony as her back contorted to an odd crescent moon shape. She was then drug by her hair into the dungeons and left there for four fortnights with only meager amounts of food and water. It would have been longer if not for September first which was quickly approaching.

After her stay in the dungeon she was returned to her room and took one of the longest showers she could manage as she finally allowed herself to break down under the fall of the water cascading around her. In the shower the tears she shed and the water that washed over her were indistinguishable.

Her sobs were hidden by the rush of water and the dried blood from the shallow cut on her back washed down the drain with little problem. She called Dobby to help her heal her back before curling up under her green down comforter. As the moon rose in the sky the fake foot board next to her closet opened showing her brother clothed in his pajamas.

"Chrysanthemum," He whispered as he approached the bed, "are you alright," she turned to face him showing her tear stained cheeks and pained face as she tried to ignore the pain that came from the shallow cut that lay across her back.

"Why won't you stop, it would make things easier." He asked his voice only a whisper.

"If I stop they win," she told him her voice just as soft.

"This is not a war Chrysie,"

"Then why do they attack."

"Because you agitate,"

"Do not,"

"Yes you do. You say reform not conform but you mean agitation instead of placation. If you would just keep your mouth shut…."

"And let them continue, I am not you Draco, I refuse to sit back and let either of them talk like that about anyone else. It just, it makes my…" She searched for the term that lay on the tip of her tongue as she sat up in the large queen sized bed.

"Blood boil," he supplied.

She turned to face him "Exactly," she said slight surprised evident in her voice. Draco was the more calmly set of the two. His good control of emotions made him

"How do you think I feel when they talk about you or hex you Chrysie?"

"Draco I am so…"

"Don't, please don't apologize we both know it means nothing. You are not going to change and I accept that, to some extent, now move over I am exhausted." He climbed up onto her bed and curling up next to her on the bed and tucking her head into his armpit. Curled in her brother's arms Chrysanthemum began the soft whistle of a tune neither could name yet was so familiar it could do nothing but put the two at ease. Draco's arms curled tighter around his sister taking in a comfort only she could offer him all the while knowing how fleeting this feeling was.

School started in two days, and he was not daft enough to believe they would be sorted together.

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**A/N - Please Review and let me know what you think : ).**


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